Chapter 24: The bar
by Puppysaur
Summary: After the death of Lennie, George is so shaken by what he has done. He and Slim go to a bar, will some things slip? Can George keep himself together?


**Title- Chapter 24: The bar**

**Summary- After the death of Lennie, George is so shaken by what he has done. He and Slim go to a bar, will some things will slip... **

**Author's rant: Oh yes, I'm sure you've seen a story like this haven't you? Well it's a little different...I guess. **

They entered an old wooden building with rotting wood. Rain drops slowly began to fall as if the sky were weeping.

Slim looked at the surroundings and when he saw George staring blankly. "George, ya okay?" He asked. He looked toward to George whose eyes had turned to stone, his arms stood rigidly by his side. "George!" He called out once again, he was just about to lift his arm up and snap George out of it.

George shook his head and snapped out of his revire. "I'm jus' thinkin' 'bout what I hadda do." His mouth was pressed in a grim tightline, his hand scratching his head as if he were debating something inside his mind.

"Ya hadda do it, Lennie's probably happier now."

"Yeah, yeah." George said as he watched the trees being cut down. "They takin' away the tree's life jus' like I took Lennie's."

Slim closed the door behind them; the door creaked, slicing the silence. A few shivers ran down his spine from the high pitched creak. The rain had just begun to unleash it's fury, the rain coming down harder, faster.

George looked up at the ceiling, the wooden beams crisscrossed, and some were even leaning on one another for support. By the sounds of the whoosing, and snapping of tree limbs, he could tell that the wind was blowing hard. The people in the bar sat motionless. Some had their heads down; others were sprawled on the ground, or curled up into a tight ball of yarn. No sound was heard except for a few stiffling of sobs and the clinking glass that held the wine. He took in a deep breath in attempt to calm himself down, at the same time inhaling the smell of old beer and wine. He plopped himself onto the chilling, hard, seat, his hands slowly wrapped around the freezing, cold, cup.

Slim looked at his friend every now and then to make sure he was alright, this time he turned to see George bent over with his hands covering his face, his back hunched over, and his fingers pulling at his hair, the cup in front of him with the beer sloshing slightly indicating that it had poured recently. "I swear ya hadda do it, let it go."

George only held onto his glass tighter, he kept gripping it to the point where his knuckles turned white. "Shouldda jus' let 'em take 'im away." He coughed momentairly and held out the cold glass to his lips, letting a little of the beer burn his throat.

"Ya wouldda made 'im suffer."

George looked over at Slim who sat beside him. "Makin' 'im suffer wouldn't be the right thing."

"So ya did the right thing." Slim concluded. He took a long look at George who now sat motionlessly, his eyes stony, his hands laid rigidly on the table. The cup of beer gently sloshed back and forth. "Blood, it look like blood. Is that why you ain't touchin' your cup?" He had noticed that George was not drinking much; George had spent most of his time sitting and staring into nothing.

George didn't seem to hear him. "but killin' your best frien' ain't right either," He sighed in exasperation.

"No it ain't to kill ya best buddy..." Slim looked over George whose eyes lit up a little. "...but if he tried to kill ya, ya did the right thing." His eyes were on George the whole time, George now seemed to be shifting uncomfortably in his seat looking away from him.

George looked away from Slim, his heart thudded loudly against his rib cage. "And if he didn't try an' kill me?"

"Ya, sayin' if he didn't try an' kill ya, an' ya killed him?"

"Ya that's what I'm sayin'."

"Then it ain't fair, it wouldda been a murder, an' it ain't no accident either."

George looked away unable to meet his friend's gaze. His hands shook a ittle before the lifting the cup to his mouth trying to swallow the guilt.

"Whatcha tryin' to get to?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at George who then again adverted his gaze.

"Nothin'." George said a little too quickly. "I was jus' thinkin'...jus' thinkin."

"Ya ain't sayin' ya actually did that, are ya?" Slim intensified his gaze.

George felt his face go pale, his eyes skidding around the room for something to quickly try to stall the conversation.

"I was jus' kiddin' 'round, no needa look like ya goin' to faint here," Slim laughed.

The color returned to George's cheeks, and for the first time sicne Lennie's death, he smiled.

The storm outside had given up, the sun peeking through the clouds.

**Please review! :) **


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